


perhaps these are ones they should avoid

by albion



Series: eruri week [5]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, England - Freeform, Eruri Week, Erwin is a police officer, Gen, Levi is a young offender, Origins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 06:57:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/albion/pseuds/albion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>eruri week</b> | <i>day six</i> : “origins”<br/>also originally posted <a href="http://hattushash.tumblr.com/post/71227929503/perhaps-these-are-ones-they-should-avoid">here</a> on tumblr</p><p> </p><p>“Levi.” says the policeman. “Nice name.”</p><p>“It’s a stupid name,” Levi begins, before he can help himself. “Named after someone in the Bible or something.” Then he bites his lower lip, because when did he start having a conversation with this man?</p><p>“Levi,” says the policeman again, and his hand starts moving towards his belt. Levi flinches and takes a half step back on instinct. “Are you going to come quietly, or do we need to chase each other again?”</p><p>“As far as I recall,” Levi says, “it was always you chasing me, never the other way round.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	perhaps these are ones they should avoid

**Author's Note:**

> based on “a choice with no regrets”. inspiration includes “[riot van](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j052-ROwPFM)” by the arctic monkeys.

Farlan and Isabel are just behind him; he can hear the familiar sound of his deep breathing and her ponytail whipping around in the wind, and Levi leaps over a pile of rubbish bins and skids round the corner. The estate is one he knows all too well; shitty little houses just down the road and council houses all round this way; brick and dull grey-white and thoroughly disgustingly cheap.

It’s his home though, and Levi knows it all like the back of his hand. He wouldn’t give this up for the whole world, because here he has control.

He leads his gang past the low brick wall leading to the Safeway’s, past the string of white spray painted graffiti that announces POP IS DEAD, and finally to one of their usual hiding places between the patch of dying roses and the pile of black bins.

Levi crouches down as small as he can manage, grateful for once for his stature, and a split second later Farlan and Isabel’s bodies appear right next to his. They hear the sound of their pursuers behind the wall, and Levi turns slowly with a finger to his lips.

It’s all for show really. Farlan and Isabel are silent as the grave, when need be.

They hear the sounds of the two police officers, low and talking quickly. He remembers what they look like, from the brief glimpse he’d had of them before the chase had begun. Both of them obscenely tall and blond. Levi cranes his ear to listen, but their words are intelligible. Finally, after about two minutes, he hears the sound of them walking away.

They wait another ten minutes, just to make sure it isn’t a trap, before Levi extracts himself carefully from the pile of thorns and reaches out a hand to help Isabel out. Farlan pulls out the bag and checks to make sure everything is there. A handful of new CDs, stolen from the HMV down on the high street, a packet of crisps each, and a can of coke.

Just the usual haul, for inner city young offenders like them.

 

.

 

It’s a Wednesday when Levi sees one of the policemen again. He’s loitering just outside the bank on the main street, cigarette in hand and a pocket knife concealed in the leg of his jeans, when the man walks by in his ridiculous get up, and stops.

He turns, and Levi gives him the nastiest look he can manage, honed by fourteen tough years of surviving in this part of London.

“Do I know you?” the man asks, and Levi notices the blue of his eyes and the sharpness of his cheekbones. He’d almost look ridiculous, if Levi didn’t know how dangerous this situation could turn out to be.

“Not sure,” Levi replies flippantly. “Do you?”

The man frowns. “That’s not a good attitude to have, young man.” He has the faintest twinge of an accent, and Levi faintly wonders if he’s American. He laughs harshly, throwing his head back to rest onto the brick wall and blowing out a lungful of smoke.

“Whatever old man. Piss off.”

“I’m warning you, one more rude word-”

“And what?” Levi asks, slouching down further against the wall. “You’ll bring me in for being rude? For being a piss arse little shit? I get that enough from my mum.”

Then the man has the audacity to look _sympathetic_ , and Levi feels his blood pressure rising. “Whatever,” he says, pushing himself off the wall and tossing the cigarette stub onto the pavement.

He turns to go, and then the absolutely tragic happens. The jewellery piece he’s stuck into the pocket of his hoodie falls out of his pocket and onto the ground. Levi curses. It’s obvious he hasn’t bought it. There’s no bag and no box, and it’s a diamond and gold thing, much above the likes of him.

He watches, almost paralyzed, as the policeman bends down slowly to pick up the necklace. Then he holds it out, and Levi’s eyes widen. He should be running by now. He should be _off this street._

But he can’t move.

“Is this yours?” the policeman asks. Levi feels the breath leave his lungs.

“I-” he begins, and his hand closes around the concealed pocket knife.

“It’s very pretty,” the man continues, and now Levi doesn’t know if the man is just humouring him before he whips out a pair of handcuffs, or if somehow he is actually the stupidest man on the Force and hasn’t put two and two together yet. “Present for your mum?”

The tension between them is almost visible. Finally Levi snaps. “Are you dumb? Are you actually fucking _thick_?”

The man looks surprised. “Am I stupid? What makes you think that?”

Levi throws out one arm, gesturing towards the necklace hanging off the man’s palm. “Well I obviously fucking stole that— Oh, shit.”

He turns and runs, and hears the sound of the officer start off after him.

Stupid fucking police, trying to trick him into confessing right there on the street.

He scales up the wall in the alley between the grocer’s and the old community centre, and because he cannot resist, he glances back one time.

The policeman is standing there on the ground watching him, face stoic. The diamonds glint in his palm.

 

.

 

Two weeks later, and Levi is with Isabel and Farlan when he bumps into the weird policeman again. He literally walks into him, because he’s watching for a mark on the opposite side of the road and doesn’t see the man’s broad chest until his face is firmly pressed into the uniform. It smells like aftershave and sweat. He stumbles back, and catches a glimpse of his friend’s two worried faces.

“Ah shit.”

“Well,” the man begins, as if they were old fucking _acquaintances_ , “it’s you again.”

“Yeah well _what_ ,” Levi says, a lot braver than he feels. “Fuck off.”

“Do you know you’d be a great policeman?” he asks, out of nowhere, and Levi frowns.

“What?”

“You would. You’re light and nimble, and you’ve got a good eye for people, it seems.”

“Levi-” says Farlan, with a concerned tone to his voice. Levi turns to face them.

“Meet me later, yeah?”

Isabel nods slowly, and pulls Farlan by the sleeve of his jacket. Within a few seconds they’ve completely disappeared, melted into the grey London background that they call home.

“Levi.” says the policeman. “Nice name.”

“It’s a stupid name,” Levi begins, before he can help himself. “Named after someone in the Bible or something.” Then he bites his lower lip, because when did he start having a conversation with this man?

“Levi,” says the policeman again, and his hand starts moving towards his belt. Levi flinches and takes a half step back on instinct. “Are you going to come quietly, or do we need to chase each other again?”

“As far as I recall,” Levi says, “it was always you chasing me, never the other way round.”

He takes two jogs backwards before he turns and runs, and hears the now familiar sound of the man chasing him.

 _If he wants a chase,_ Levi thinks, _I’ll give him a damn good one._

He takes him past the church, almost knocking over two old ladies and their dogs, down to the river, past the council flats where Farlan lives, back up the patchy grass towards where all the drug addicts hang out, past his usual hiding spot, down to the Safeway, and across the street. He can hear the man breathing right behind him all the way, though he doesn’t seem to be wavering or out of the breath. Maybe he was extraordinarily fit. Maybe he had been an athlete before joining the police. Maybe it didn’t fucking _matter,_ because now Levi is running out of places in his mental list to hide.

Somehow he ends up in the alleyway where he’d escaped on Wednesday, and pushes himself up off the top of a rubbish tip to latch onto the damp brick. He pulls himself up a fair few feet, before his foot catches on a loose brick and he falls.

His eyes screw shut instinctively as he braces himself for the impact on the cold concrete, but it never happens. He opens his eyes again, and realises the man has caught him, like a fucking prince in a Disney film.

“Get off me,” he yells, and practically leaps out of the man’s arms.

“Looks like the game’s up, Levi. Good chase though. Haven’t had a workout like that in a while.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“I’m still serious about you being a good police officer one day, if you were ever so inclined. They need good athletes like you.”

“Comes from a lifetime of running away from people like you,” Levi spits. “So now what. You take me down to the station and my mum has to come in and pick me up?”

“Something like that,” the man replies. He holds out a hand. “Come on, it’s not worth trying to run away again.”

Levi scowls, and pushes away his outstretched hand. “I’ll fucking come, don’t worry. Even _I_ know when I’ve been had.”

The police officer falls into step beside him as they exit the alley, and as they enter onto the main street, half lit by the dull light of a cloudy British day, Levi turns to him.

“You know, I don’t even know your bloody name.”

“I’m Erwin,” Erwin says, as if Levi should have guessed it all along. “Erwin Smith.”

“Of course you are,” Levi replies, “only something weird would suit you.”


End file.
